


It's Not Your Fault

by NoOneFrUkingCares



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Best Friends, Bisexuality, Childhood Friends, Eating, F/F, F/M, Female Jongin, Female Sehun, Fist Fights, Genderbending, How Do I Tag, Lesbians, Lunch, Partying, Sehun is a very useful Lesbian, She is a deadly and we support her, Talking, Walk Into A Bar, Zitao fights in self defense, art student Yifan, even though she plays such a little role that knowing nini's gender doesn't matter here, female Zitao, squint very closely for chanbaek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22337374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOneFrUkingCares/pseuds/NoOneFrUkingCares
Summary: Oh Sehun is good at breaking relationships up. Zitao is acting weird. Yifan didn't sign up for any of this.
Relationships: Huang Zi Tao | Z.Tao/Oh Sehun, Huang Zi Tao | Z.Tao/Wu Yi Fan | Kris
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12
Collections: Song For You : The Second Album





	It's Not Your Fault

**Author's Note:**

> This all started like 2 years ago, when my sister was listening to a nightcore female version of Guys Don't Like Me. I was like oh. potential. 
> 
> ANd since I'm me, I'm horrible at finishing writing things, so this would've rotted probably in my drafts, but I found this fest and thought, hmmm, might as well finally finish this.
> 
> (I wanted to pick a Krisho prompt but my [beta](archiveofourown.org/users/extensive_scribe) said she would've throttled me in my sleep if I did, and since I can't write words without her, I conceded. Maybe another day.) 
> 
> So thank you to the mods for being great and running this amazing fest, and to my [beta](archiveofourown.org/users/extensive_scribe) for keeping me sane!

The music is too loud, the heat is blasting too high, and the lights are flashing into Yifan’s eyes in a way that will soon leave him blind. He almost wishes he’d brought sunglasses even if it means he wouldn’t have been able to see anything else, but he doesn’t need to see. He just needs to hold onto Zitao’s hand as she drags him through the crowd, leading him where she pleases.

“Ge, they have glowsticks!” Zitao thrusts an unbroken one into his face as proof of their existence before handing it over, moving on in search of more. Yifan doesn’t try to break it, he barely gets a grasp on the tube before Zitao’s pulling forwards again, heading for something else. They squeeze through masses of warm, humid bodies, bumping and rushing at them, trying to tear them apart, and Yifan tightens his grip on his girlfriend, suddenly very glad that she decided to wear her platform boots so that they’re both nearly a head taller than the crowd, making spotting her much easier.

It’s only when they come out and end up at an empty table does Yifan realise that Zitao had just squeezed them through the crowded dance floor and they had somehow made it through alive, and in one piece. Zitao doesn’t act like they just went through a near death experience, but makes a beeline towards the box at the table advertising more of them.

“I’m going to grab us some drinks!” Yifan calls over the din, relatively convinced that Zitao won’t move too much now that she has something to distract her and keep her occupied.

“Alright! You’re the best, Fanfan-ge!” Zitao already cracked open three, and Yifan shakes his head at the sight of her aglow in the neon, bending them into circles to decorate her body with.

For whatever reason, Zitao had dragged him through the dance floor so that they’re now directly opposite the bar, and the fastest way back would be the way they just came. That also sounds like the world’s worst idea possible, so Yifan surrenders himself to the idea of slowly threading around the edge of the club and hopes that Zitao doesn’t suddenly find some friend and pop away.

As soon as Yifan gets a hand on the brilliant red cocktail that the bartender gave him with merely the mention of Zitao’s name - how many times does she come here to party - a wave of cold sweat washes over him. It’s ridiculous how quickly the temperature drops despite not changing a single degree, and Yifan feels goosebumps rise, an instinctual warning rising up within him. Is Zitao hurt?

He glances around for nearby threats, seeing as Zitao is too far away to be seen, and since no one seems to be crowding around anything in particular, he can fully assume that nothing has happened, yet. What his mom affectionately refers to as his “Zitao radar” is currently at a 4 out of 10 danger alarm, which means he should probably get her within sight as soon as possible. Can’t be the drink, because Yifan had kept a very close eye on the bartender as he made it, and took it directly from his hand, but maybe he should give her his cocktail instead. It’s not as flaming red, but Yifan can attest that it’s about 10 times stronger than any other cocktail that has ever been invented, and Zitao didn’t seem to completely hate it the last time she drank it for him.

Yifan turns around, and the bad feeling suddenly disappears completely, getting replaced by a bitter taste rising up in his throat. Oh no, it’s her.

Acting like she owns the place, Oh Sehun struts in, wearing one of the most daring outfits Yifan’s seen so far on her, and though he hates to admit it, she looks good. Her hair is bleached blond, and her thigh high boots are certainly causing more stares than just him.

After becoming infamous for breaking up a relationship by seducing the girl, she turned from the once shy girl who sat in the back row of History of Business Entrepreneurships into a heartbreaker, completely embracing the jeers in a way that no one quite expected. Everyone who has ever visited a club or has ever heard about her through campus whispers has an opinion on her. Either they hate her for being a destroyer of relationships, a player who loved to play with those who are already taken, or they want her, both male and female and neutral.

For his part, Yifan just kinda hopes that Sehun stays away from him and Zitao, because everyone says that Sehun always goes after the prettiest ones, and Zitao is nothing but the prettiest in the room. Cheating is always an asshole move, and even if Sehun isn’t exactly an asshole, she’s helped others become cheaters more times than she’s shown up to psychology class this year.

By the time Yifan finally spots Zitao again, now completely lit up by multi-neon glow sticks hanging on and around her, there’s more people around her, including suspiciously familiar blond hair whipping around and walking away. Yifan makes his way back, feeling suspicious about whoever just left the conversation with Zitao, especially since she currently doesn’t seem to be jumping into any other conversations.

“You got the drinks!” Zitao spots him first, jumping up to her feet to meet him halfway and take her cocktail out of his hand. “Thank you for this, ge, love ya!” She pecks him on the cheek, and before he could say anything, she’s already sipping her drink, eyes closed to block out the world.

Yifan takes a moment to look over her, appearing so peaceful in such a chaotic place as she gently takes down the contents of the glass. There are two glowstick circles over each of her ears, a mockup of hoop earrings as they bump against the studs she borrowed from his ears, and somehow don’t fall off even as she tilts her head back more and more. The fishnet vest she wears over her little black dress now has dozens of glowstick bracelets attached, and she even managed to stick a few into her boots, shining from the top. If nothing else, she’ll be impossible to hit, even by a drunk driver.

“Why aren’t you drinking?” Zitao looks at him over a half-full glass.

“I was thinking about if I should drive home or not.”

“What’s the point of coming to a club if you’re not even gonna have any fun?”

“To take care of you.” Zitao rolls her eyes, clinking her glass against Yifan’s.

“You just got a commission and you’re thriving, loosen up and have some fun. Cheers!” Zitao drinks again, and Yifan sighs, looking at the glass in his own hand. Might as well, this isn’t going to bring his blood alcohol up too high anyways.

Three drinks and about half an hour later, Zitao is fully tipsy as she drags Yifan around to more and more people who all seem to know her, always jumping into conversations and out with a full introduction of Yifan.

“Y’all, this is my boyfriend, so he’s taken and he’s the sweetest and most talented being in this club!” Yifan’s more or less propping her up at this point, and this most recent batch of friends cheer to that, handing her an unopened bottle of champagne to pop.

“Oh, so you were talking about this Yifan!” Chanyeol slurs, looking like he’s had a few too many glasses as he falls into Yifan’s arms and Yifan finds himself supporting not one but two tall idiots, forming a trio.

“Chanyeol, I’m the only Yifan in this school.” The music major makes an exaggerated ahhhh, nodding into Yifan’s shoulder.

“Well, you never know. Like how many fucking Marks and Jaehyuns and Minhyuks are here???”

“Here.” A glass of champagne knocks against Yifan’s shoulder, threatening to spill on his new jacket. He really should’ve saved it for a less chaotic time.

“Oh, thanks.” Chanyeol grabs the glass and chugs it in one gulp, handing the empty glass straight to someone else who disappears into the fray.

“You have to drink it slowly, heathen! And how do you know each other?” Zitao knocks into Chanyeol’s head in a wanna fight fashion, and Yifan shifts so she’s three steps back from Chanyeol. Despite how annoying he can get at times, Chanyeol is entirely harmless. Can’t say the same for Zitao though, who looks like she can and will knock Chanyeol out in one hit.

“He likes to come to the art studios a lot to play music for Baekhyun, and I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink, Taozi.” Yifan remarks, and Zitao thankfully lowers her guard immediately, nodding and acting as if she didn’t hear Yifan’s last words.

“Oh cool, I’ll pop by one day then.”

“Wow, you look like you’re struggling quite a bit.” Baekhyun appears from the mess and just stands there, watching Yifan try and support the intoxicated people.

“Baekhyun, take him.” Yifan doesn’t bother trying to ask, but dumps Chanyeol on his friend, knowing that Baekhyun would probably refuse.

“Yifan, you can’t just dump him on me! He’s heavy!” Baekhyun cries, almost entirely covered by the deadweight that is Chanyeol.

“Hey, Soo made the cake and you’re acting like I wasn’t supposed to eat it.” Chanyeol mumbles, sounding quite offended. Yifan and Baekhyun ignore him.

“Well, I’m already holding Taozi, and he’s clearly your responsibility.”

“I want to get drunk too!”

“The only one I’m driving home tonight is Taozi, and you’re supposed to take care of your boyfriend.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes, not even denying the second part of the sentence.

“ _Yifan_ -” Baekhyun starts whining, and if Yifan was just a bit softer, he would’ve given in. Unfortunately for Baekhyun, Zitao’s still very much conscious and starting to slur in Mandarin, the difference between languages starting to blur as she throws her arms around Yifan’s neck and cuddles into him.

“Who unlocks the computer lab for you despite the fact that you’re not allowed in?” Baekhyun groans, knowing that Yifan has a point. He nods in surrender, starting to half-pull, half-drag Chanyeol away to a place so that they can both be more comfortable.

“Who are we meeting next?” Zitao asks, watching Baekhyun struggle away with a barely cooperating Chanyeol, every other word in Mandarin.

“Your toothbrush and pillow.” Yifan replies, looking around to orientate himself and get them both out. Man, the club seems so straight-forwards until you let your girlfriend drag you around the place and then you don’t know what’s up from down.

“But I wanted to see some other people and get you drunk!” She whines, “You never drink and get to relax or anything.” Zitao’s voice is muffled into his neck, sounds starting to join together and form completely different words.

“Well, I have to make sure you’re fine first, don’t I?” By a stroke of luck, the direction they headed turns out to be the way to the exit, and Yifan pulls Zitao out of the stuffy club, coming directly out into a much cooler atmosphere. For a second, Yifan imagines his breath in the air, floating around like a winter cloud, but it disappears as soon as Zitao shivers.

“Can you stand on your own for a second, Taozi?” Yifan’s already nearly pulled one arm half out of his jacket when Zitao mumbles a no and snuggles tighter to Yifan, not letting him move.

Yifan sighs and gives up on the jacket idea. That can wait until Zitao’s off her feet and those monstrous shoes in the comfort of Yifan’s car.

“Alright, but we need to get to the car, Taozi, do you think you can do that?”

“I want to rest.” Zitao slurs, becoming more and more lazy by the second as she puts more and more of her weight on Yifan.

“You can rest as soon as we get to the car and you can sit, alright? Just walk a little bit more and we’ll be there.” Yifan glances around, trying to remember where he parked. God, why didn’t he just go for the closest spot and pay the toll anyways?

“I don’t want to walk anymore.”

Yifan bends down, finding himself with no other choice. “I’ll give you a piggyback, get on.”  
Arms sling around his neck, and seconds later, Yifan stands up as best as he can, Zitao’s warm breath on the back of his left ear.

“Ge.”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you take such good care of me?”

“Because who else will?” Yifan replies softly, already hearing Zitao’s breathing starting to slow.

“Stop it. You’re raising my expectations too high.” Zitao mumbles, apparently not asleep just yet.

“Good, you should have high expectations in people, Taozi.” Zitao gives a reply that is more jumbled sounds than an actual response, and Yifan nudges Zitao higher on his back, to nudge her awake and to not accidentally drop her. “Taozi, don’t fall asleep just yet. I’m almost at the car and I need you to get in yourself.”

“Taozi?” Yifan asks again, another nudge. The only response he gets is another steady breath against his ear, and he supposed that means Zitao is actually completely asleep.

-

When Yifan walks into the art studio that he and Baekhyun share the next morning, it’s like walking in on a ghost. Baekhyun is there, because he’s always there first, but the whole room is completely dark. The huge windows that Baekhyun said that he had nearly fist-fought someone unnamed to be able to look through while working were drawn, and there were no lights on. If it wasn’t for Yifan nearly tripping over the bag Baekhyun usually drops at the door to surprise anyone who doesn’t belong inside their studio, then he wouldn’t have known that Baekhyun was in there at all.

“How are you feeling?” Yifan calls into the dark room, flipping on the light switch. The curled up form by the table groans, his head buried in his arms, and a hoodie just barely covering the top of his arms. “And I thought you couldn’t drink too much because you needed to take care of Chanyeol.”

“Just because you’re so high and mighty doesn’t mean you need to torture me.” Baekhyun rasps, trying to bury his head in his arms more than is currently humanly possible. “Turn off the lights.”

“I’m just wondering with what time you had to drink to have this bad a hangover.” Yifan asks, unable to keep the smile off his face.

“Hyung, please.” Baekhyun sounds near begging, and Yifan takes pity on the poor child, flipping the light switch off.

He stands in silence for a few seconds, letting his eyes adjust to the relative darkness in the room.

“You know we’re going to have to turn on the lights eventually to actually do some work?”  
The agreeing wheeze that comes out of Baekhyun is nasal, and Yifan starts preparing his station to start working, giving Baekhyun a bit longer of a grace period.

Baekhyun eventually agrees to open the curtain slightly but not to turn on the lights, forcing Yifan to sit closer to the windows and reflect light all around the room because of his new mirrors piece. Baekhyun suffering at his easel is such a pathetic picture that Yifan almost wants to suggest that they close the curtains and just take a nap and lose a valuable day of work on this project. But at the same time, there’s something amusing and endearing about it, and Yifan ends up smiling as he continues his own work.

The little flower in the corner is looking a bit wonky, but Yifan’s quickly distracted by the arms snaking around his middle, a body forcing its way into his embrace. Then he looks down and nearly laughs, but that’s inconsiderate.

Zitao’s more or less in pajamas, except for the huge hood pulled down on her head and the large pair of super-tinted sunglasses on her eyes. She’s trying to lay her head on his chest but gets his collarbones instead, and if Yifan didn’t have hands full of paint, he might’ve pulled her in closer.

“Morning, sleep well?”

Zitao doesn’t respond, trying to plea unconsciousness, but Yifan knows her too well for that.

“What a wondrous occasion it is that Madam Huang Zitao is visiting this little art studio, especially when she seems so hungover.”

“Please, ge, I’m begging you, be quiet.” Yifan hmms, feeling that this amount of torture is enough, after all, she had to actually get up early and walk over to see him. So he presses a kiss into her hair before picking up his brush again, needing to fix the flower.

“But why are you here? I’ll leave you alone after you answer that, but don’t you not have classes until the afternoon? You could be sleeping.”

“Hi, as the dumb non-multilingual in the room, can we speak in a language all three of us understand? I get nervous when you two start talking in Mandarin.” Baekhyun interrupts, sounding better than he was ten minutes ago. Well, he still sounds like he wants to die, but he doesn’t sound like he’s about to die - so that counts as a win.

“Sure. But how about we just stop talking altogether and not upset Zitao?” Yifan switches to Korean, lowering his voice as Zitao squirms to show her displeasure.

“Oh, I see how it is. This is blatant and unfair favouritism. I am going to lodge a complaint at the offi-“ Baekhyun shuts up when Zitao picks up a brush and throws it at his general direction. It clatters onto the floor, barely even close to him, but he flinches away, probably also remembering how Zitao always wins at darts.

They work in silence for a bit more, and Zitao slowly wakes up over the course of the day, stretching out like a cat in a particularly good sun spot. By lunchtime, she’s up and running again, alive enough to banter with Baekhyun as he works.

“So you’re scared you’ll lose, that’s what I’m hearing?” Baekhyun goads, adding light pink to whatever he’s painting on Zitao’s arm while he waits for a particularly big patch of paint to dry.

“No, I just don’t want to embarrass you since I’ll clearly wipe the floor with you.” Zitao jests, not able to be as energetic as she usually would be because of Baekhyun holding her arm in place.

“You wanna go? C’mon let’s go, right here right now, let’s see who wins.” Baekhyun balls a fist up, acting like he would actually throw down.

“Let’s go, get up so I can hit you down.” Zitao smirks, not moving from her seat.

“Yifan, I’ll win right? Back me up here!” Baekhyun calls, dragging Yifan into the conversation as he changes to dark purple for whatever’s on Zitao’s arm.

“Baekhyun, give it up, you know you can’t beat Zitao.” Even if Baekhyun fakes offense, it’s the truth. Zitao has 10 centimetres on Baekhyun, and years more of wushu under her belt. And her aim is actually surprisingly good, she’ll definitely be able to toss a paper wad into the trash first.

“Wow man. I thought you were all about bros before hoes.” Baekhyun pouts, overdramatic as ever.

“She’s the bro, you’re the hoe.” Yifan deadpans, and Zitao snorts as Baekhyun’s mouth hangs open, unable to refute facts.

“Who was the one who was with you during the group project from hell? I thought our time and struggles together would’ve given our relationship meaning!” Baekhyun throws a hand over his forehead, dramatically swooning in offence. “I thought our months together meant something!” Baekhyun hands the paintbrush to Zitao and painstakingly slowly falls onto the floor in front of Yifan in a fake faint, reaching up to clutch at Yifan’s pants legs in betrayal.

“I have over 20 years on you, just give up.” Zitao laughs, continuing Baekhyun’s work on her arm without his permission.

“Wait, what?” Baekhyun gets back up, dramatics gone in the face of surprise. “You’ve known each other for over 20 years?”

Yifan meets Zitao’s eyes as he tries to count back in time. Has it been 20 years yet? “Our families are very good friends.” He explains, trying to figure out if you subtract his age from hers and then add about a few months…

“Okay, so it might not be exactly 20 years, but it’s getting close.” Zitao admits, handing the paintbrush over to Baekhyun.

“No wonder you two are inseperable. 20 years is a fuck ton of time.” Baekhyun sits back down, switching the brush for a thinner one to mark down details.

“Yeah. I think it’s going to be our anniversary soon too.” Yifan considers, seeing if he mixed up his dates. Sure, he’s shit at math, but he can at least remember a few numbers. Sometimes. He’s pretty sure. Yeah. He didn’t switch up the anniversary with his phone password again.

“You know best ge.” Zitao nods, no clue whatsoever. Honestly Yifan could probably claim it’s their anniversary five times a year and Zitao won’t be able to tell the difference because she just doesn’t know dates.

“What anniversary date? Of meeting or dating?” Baekhyun asks, now more intrigued in the tale than painting Zitao’s arm.

“We met at my third birthday party, and I know that because that was the biggest blowout party I have ever had.” There was a recording of the thing by one of Zitao’s uncles of the whole thing, and even though Yifan’s own memories are quite fuzzy, it remains the best birthday party he had ever attended. “It’s sad knowing that you peaked at age 3.”

Baekhyun nods, finally able to stop hawking and dip his brush into bright yellow. “Don’t say stuff like that, it’s sad that it’s relatable. But why did you two start dating?”

“What do you mean by why?” Zitao asks, turning her arm slightly for Baekhyun to get a detail on the side closer to her.

“I mean yeah you two are in love and all that, but why did you decide that you wanted to start dating instead of just being really close friends?” Baekhyun didn’t look up as he asks the question, focusing on outlining the shape of his drawing.

“Why, want some advice?” Zitao snarks in Mandarin, but retreats when Yifan stretches over and gently kicks her leg.

“I don’t know, it just felt natural. Like it should’ve happened.” Yifan answers seriously, thinking back. It seemed like jumping from just friends to boyfriend and girlfriend was the natural step, what they should do. It helped that ever since they were little, there was always teasing from their relatives about how they were going to grow up and get married. Hell, Yifan calls Zitao’s parents mom and dad at times. And nothing really changed with their relationship, the only difference is that sometimes if Yifan wants to kiss Zitao then he can, which isn’t that often.

Baekhyun nods, seeming to consider something, for once with no words. They settle into silence for a little bit until Zitao breaks the silence with a groan and her stomach growing.  
“Okay, can we get some food? I’m starving.”

“Just one last thing, and done! Let’s get food, Yifan-hyung, can you please pay?” Baekhyun pouts with remorseless eyes, as Zitao carefully twists her arm back and forth, looking carefully at the picture.

“Fine,” Yifan gives him a few seconds to start cleaning up while Zitao admires the painting on her arm one last time. He knew he’d end up paying, but at least Baekhyun had the courtesy to ask.

“Look at this! Baekhyunnie did just a good job!” Zitao pushes her arm out to Yifan, and like expected from Baekhyun, it’s stunning. There’s the bud of a rose nudging its way up next to the already grown pink rose, a purple dragon wound around the whole scene, The flames blowing out from the dragon stretch towards the bud, not touching it but only just nearly, teasing at burning the little bud to ashes.

“It’s oppa to you,” Baekhyun retorts but without bite, clearly happy with the compliment

“Yeah yeah, let’s go eat!” Zitao smiles, leading the charge heading towards the door.

-

Art is an enigma.

Yifan was told too many times that he can’t draw for his life, that his detailed horses looked like giraffes and his giraffes looked like aliens, and that there was literally no way a duck could look like that. But there is no right way to make a thing, and so Yifan abandoned his pencils and crayons for paint brushes and canvases, hoping to stretch reality into the thing they call art. Paint is far less demanding than precise lines, instead just wishing to spread around, sink into skin, take ahold of Yifan’s body.

People now say that his painted horses look like horses and his ducks look like anatomically correct ducks. Why does paint transform the way Yifan wants it to when other things don’t?

“Earth to Yifan. Calling to Yifan. Are you in there?” Yifan starts out of his skin when he feels Baekhyun bumping against his shoulder, barely avoiding drawing a huge streak against the canvas.

“Baekhyun! Don’t do that!” Yifan jerks his hand back, but the little shadow has already gone past the point it should’ve reached.

“Sorry. But you seemed really out of it and it’s time for class.” Baekhyun analyzes the slight blot of pink while Yifan glances down at his watch. It is time for class, and he indeed is going to be late. “Want me to fix that?”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll probably just paint over it later anyway.” Yifan dabs up the majority of the paint with his hand, leaving just a slight pink tinge to the white. This commission isn’t the type of thing that Yifan would normally do, and while it’s nice to get work and try new styles, it takes much longer as Yifan goes slower to avoid mistakes.

“Okay, I’m leaving.” Yifan calls, tossing his brushes into the sink bucket and grabbing his bag.  
Baekhyun only waves a hand in return.

He’s probably going to be stuck in the studio late painting, so that means Zitao would have to conjure up dinner by herself. He pulls out his phone to text her so, but just as he opens up their messages, he’s interrupted by a message from Zitao explaining that she’ll also be home late so he doesn’t have to worry about making dinner for her. Well, that makes two of them.

He replies with a quick explanation and drops his phone back into his pocket. She’s usually missing during the evenings, preferring to party instead of join him in going to bed early, but she also usually doesn’t miss dinner, leaving after helping him with the dishes. Ah well, she probably just has stuff to do.

-

Chanyeol shows up with his guitar a few days later, but Baekhyun’s in the computer lab doing whatever the hell he does. There was a whole controversy about Baekhyun breaking into their school database by accident, which is why he’s currently banned from doing anything in the school computer labs, and what people say is the reason he jumped ship from a software engineering major to a painting major. Yifan thinks it’s because he just realised that he would be happier painting as a living while dropping software from time to time. Either way, he’s not willing to get into trouble for being the one letting him into the computer lab, and when Baekhyun’s in there, Yifan’s going to firmly pretend he has no clue whatsoever about where Baekhyun is.

“Hey, where’s Baekhyun?”

Of course Chanyeol’s first words out are about Baekhyun.

“No clue,” Yifan responds.

Chanyeol nods, also immediately understanding what the no clue means. But surprisingly, he doesn’t immediately leave, instead sitting down in a stool next to Yifan.  
Yifan keeps working. Chanyeol doesn’t speak, just keeps watches him.

Yifan usually works without an audience, and the fact he has one is kinda throwing him off. The fact that Chanyeol is being so quiet is another reason why he’s feeling slightly on edge, he usually always has something to say. Maybe he has something on his mind.

Either way, since Yifan has been working for a long time without a break, might as well take a moment to breathe. So he straightens up, hearing the sound of his spine cracking as he stretches, and then turns to look at Chanyeol.

“So?”

“So what?” Chanyeol straightens as well, clearly startled.

“Not that I mind you being here, but why are you here?” Yifan asks, turning his head from side to side, working out the kinks in his neck as he flexes his fingers and arms.

Chanyeol starts stuttering. “I, uh, um-“

Yifan waits.

“Baekhyunnie told me about how you and Zitao got together.” Chanyeol finally says, his fingers tapping against the wood of his guitar in an unrefined pattern.

“Yeah.” Yifan replies, capping his paints so they won’t go dry, anticipating a long conversation.

“How do you feel about Zitao?” Chanyeol asks slowly, looking like his every word is being considered and reconsidered over and over.

“Like how?”

“Like… when you think about her, how do you think about her?” The words tumble out of his mouth slowly, speeding up as he finishes the sentence. Before Yifan can reply though, Chanyeol opens his mouth again, the words coming out much faster. “Like do you wonder constantly how she’s doing? Do you see things and get reminded of her all the time? Do you want to make her happier than anyone in the world? Do you see her when you think about the future?”

Ah. He likes someone. Yifan doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, but he thinks he might know who.

“Well, I think that Taozi is a good person, and that while she might be a bit immature at times, she’s still growing and she’s one of the best people I know.” Yifan replies, sorting through his thoughts. “I do get reminded of her at times when I see things she likes, but I usually won’t wonder how she’s doing. I want to make sure she’s happy in life, but I don’t think I can make her the happiest in life because she finds joy in a lot of other things besides me. And she’s been in my life for so long that I don’t think I can think about the future or anything without her.”

Chanyeol nods, seeming to be thinking through something. Yifan has the feeling that these questions are not just being applied to Zitao.

“How did you feel when you two first got together? Did anything really change?”

“When we first got together? I guess I was excited about it, but nothing really changed. We’re still good friends and I’m still kinda being overprotective of her.” Now that Yifan thinks about it, there really wasn’t any change. Zitao has been the one to come up with the idea of dating, and while Yifan didn’t really think that he liked her in that way, he also didn’t have any complaints. Besides, if it made Zitao happy, then he was happy to be in a relationship together.

“Do you want to go home and see her everyday?” Chanyeol asks quietly, seemingly running out of stream for questions.

“Well, we live together.” Yifan states bluntly. “Our parents thought it’ll be good for us to learn to be self-sufficient but with someone who can help us if needed.”

“Ah.” Chanyeol gives Yifan a strained smile. When you phrase it like that, it sounds like a stupid question.

“Sometimes she drives me up a wall. Sometimes I don’t really want to go home and see her, and sometimes I do wonder what it would’ve been like if I could just lived alone, especially if she sometimes comes home half drunk and causing a ruckus.” Yifan admits, not entirely sure why. Zitao has admitted that she sometimes doesn’t want to live with him either, but there’s a lot of convenience in living together. Plus, she doesn’t have to cook with him around.

“Oh. I didn’t know that. You two seem like the happiest pair in the world.” Chanyeol responds. Do they? Yifan thought they looked more like a content pair.

“Do you want any more relationship advice?” Yifan asks, getting up to stretch his legs.

“I’m not asking for relationship advice!” Chanyeol protests.

“Well, you sound like you are, since all the questions you’re asking are about me and Zitao.” Yifan points out, moving slightly to straighten out his stiffened limbs.

Chanyeol quiets down, no protests left. But sure enough, he still quietly asks, “Do you have any relationship advice?”

Yifan wracks his brain for a second. Why did he say that without any advice in mind?

“Umm, remember that even if something looks bad, talk to the person first. Leave a note if you’re going to be home late, tell them if you make plans so they won’t be wondering. Misunderstandings hurt.” Yifan replies, spitting out the advice Zitao’s parents gave him. So far, they haven’t really used this advice much besides the leave a note for dinner part. Zitao says it’s because he doesn’t assume stuff. Yifan says it’s because they both have human decency and like zero boundaries between them.

“Thank you, hyung.” Chanyeol adds in the honorific, clearly very happy with the advice. “Sorry for making you talk so much today.” He teases.

“I wasn’t done yet, just one more thing and I’ll shut up for another three weeks.” Yifan rolls his eyes good-naturedly, and Chanyeol nods, seemingly more at ease than he was when walking in. “Don’t be afraid to go. Sometimes it’s just a minor problem that needs talking to fix, but sometimes it’s many issues on top of one another, or maybe just a lack of feelings, and then you shouldn’t be afraid to let go and leave. Wanting stability is no excuse for hurting yourself.”

Chanyeol nods, “That was pretty heavy.”

This was the advice Yifan’s mom passed on, a different approach. Yifan hasn’t had cause to use this much either, but it does roll around in his head from time to time, like a marble placed behind a book that always falls off the bookshelf when the book gets taken out.

“Some things are better known sooner than later.” Yifan shrugs, his mom’s favourite saying stuck perpetually in his head on repeat.

“Yeah yeah.” Chanyeol smiles, raising his guitar up, seeming to have overcome whatever was troubling him when he walked in. “Want me to play you something? I’m working on a new song.”

-

Zitao stumbles home at 2 am again, tipsy as hell, but somehow still managing to stagger around on those killer heels of hers. The only reason Yifan knows is because he’s sitting in the middle of their living room, a last minute project barely done and barely held up by linking threads thinner than a piece of dried spaghetti cut in half. Forgetting about this literature project had been a bad idea. Doing it in the middle of the night when he should be sleeping, and not drinking coffee to keep him going had been an even worse one.

But if nothing else, he’s awake to see the moment when Zitao walks through the door, looks up in surprise at him, and then promptly trips over another shoe she left lying a bit too far from the wall.

“Taozi!” Yifan watches, horrified as Zitao comes crashing down, thankfully into a pile of blankets in the laundry basket, barely missing the sharp and deadly coffee table not even a full head’s width away.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.” Zitao waves him off as she sits up against the basket, rubbing the rib she hit on the rim of the basket.

“Are you sure? Does it hurt? Have some water.” Yifan passes her his own basically untouched glass of water, and she takes it, drinking gratefully.

Meanwhile, he kneels down next to her feet, grabbing a heel and sliding it gently off for her, setting them neatly against the wall for now. Knowing how badly her feet must ache, Yifan takes a foot and starts gently massaging it.

“Ge, why are you still awake?” Zitao places the cup down, having chugged the majority of it within seconds, her eyes focused on Yifan working his thumbs into the arch of her foot. Yifan ignores the fact that she ignored his two questions.

“Project for Literature that I forgot about. I’m just about done, so if you want to go to bed, I won’t have the lights out here on for long.” Yifan explains, hearing Zitao’s soft sigh of relief that means his work is done on one foot. “How was the party?”

“It was good.” The silence settles in the air, Zitao surprisingly quiet for once. Maybe she’s just tired.

“Want me to carry you to the bathroom or can you walk?” Yifan teases, knowing her feet must be sore as hell. Zitao usually never misses an opportunity to be carried or to be playfully bratty, especially if she’s tired.

“I can walk.” Zitao pushes herself up, ignoring Yifan’s help for once. Huh. Yifan would be lying to say that wasn’t surprising, or that it didn’t hurt at all. But Zitao takes two steps and trips over a couch cushion that somehow made its way onto the floor, and Yifan catches her before she falls and actually hurts herself on the coffee table this time.

“You’re too fall-prone right now. Can I at least walk you to the bathroom if you don’t want to be carried?” Zitao hesitates for the fraction of a second before nodding, and Yifan slips an arm under hers, supporting her as they go. Zitao’s not stumbling around, but her steps are slightly shaky as they go, a foot placed too far one way and a knee not fully supporting her weight the next. It’s like she’s so out of it that she can’t even properly concentrate on walking. But she’s not drunk, since Zitao become clingy and more likely to fight at the same time when she’s drunk. Maybe she’s just tired.

Yifan waits outside the bathroom as Zitao slowly brushes her teeth and showers, a bit too wary for her wellbeing. The Zitao radar is currently pushing a 3.5, and even if she doesn’t seem hurt, it’s like she’s different. A bit out of it.

The door opens and Zitao walks out, makeup off and droplets of water dripping down from her hair. She’s noncommittally drying her hair, barely toweling it at all, but jumps slightly when she sees Yifan propped up against the wall, as if not expecting him to be there.

“Don’t go to sleep with your hair wet.” Yifan snips, taking the towel from Zitao to rub at her head for her.

“Were you waiting out here the whole time?” Zitao asks, offering no resistance against Yifan messing up her hair.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” There’s a tone too sad in Zitao’s voice, but Yifan ignores it.

“What if you fell again? You could’ve gotten seriously hurt.”

“But your project, you still need to work on it.” Zitao weakly points out. Another irregularity, Huang Zitao is worrying about a project over herself?

“You come first, and you know that.” Yifan states. They’ve never explicitly talked about this, but Yifan always thought that Zitao knew he thought about her like this. “There’s more time to finish it after I know you’re asleep, it’s not due until class starts.”

Zitao sniffs, bowing her head further to grant Yifan better access to the back of her head. But then she sniffles again, and again, and some dots connect.

“Taozi, are you crying?” Zitao doesn’t reply, but sniffles again. Yifan gently places his hand under her chin, tilting her head up, and sure enough, there are tears rolling down her cheeks, reflecting the light of the bathroom nightlight.

“Oh Taozi, what’s wrong?” Zitao just shakes her head, and opens her arms. Yifan gets the message immediately, opening his arms and pulling Zitao into them, letting her cry into his shoulders, quiet, shuddering sobs. Zitao usually isn’t a quiet crier, loud tears and loud sadness that gets better after her tears are done. But tonight she cries silently, as if trying to keep her tears quiet, wrapped up. Yifan doesn’t ask her why she cries. Comfort is more important, and she trusts him enough to always tell him the truth in the end.

When her tears had faded into quiet shaking and occasion shudders, Yifan leads her back into the bathroom. It had been so long that the steam had all more or less already evaporated, but he makes her sit on top of the toilet cover as he gently wipes her face of tears, her own fingers shaking too much to wash her face by herself.

Zitao’s hair isn’t completely dry yet, but it’s dry enough that Yifan feels it’s fine to get her to go to sleep.

“Wanna go to sleep?” Zitao nods, mouth firmly shut. She also offers no resistance when Yifan hooks an arm under her legs and another behind her back, only circling her arms around his neck as he carries her to her bed.

“Where are you going?” Her voice is raspy when Yifan stands up again after setting her onto the bed, her hand clutching onto his sleeve.

“I’m getting you another cup of water.” Yifan replies, and Zitao slowly lets go of his sleeve.  
Yifan comes back with two cups of water, feeling that she’ll probably need them both. Sure enough, Zitao chugs the water like she hasn’t seen liquid in months, draining both cups easily.

After she’s finally rehydrated and properly tucked in, blankets piled up around her, Yifan moves to stand, but is once again stopped by Zitao’s hand on his arm.

“Where are you going?” Her voice is less raspy, but it’s tinged with a different feel. If Yifan didn’t know better, he would almost call it desperation.

“I need to finish my project.” He feels bad doing this, but he really needs to finish it. There’s like just one or two pages left before he’s done. “You should sleep first. It’s late.”

“Then when will you sleep?” Zitao’s grip tightens on his arm, and doesn’t let him reply. “Ge, stay with me.”

Who is he to refuse? “Alright.”

Zitao opens up the covers and Yifan curls up next to her, arms tightly entwined together in a way they haven’t been in a long time. He cards a hand through her mostly wet hair, and hums a simple tune, one that Zitao’s mom used to sing them to sleep with. Sure enough, Zitao goes under quickly, but Yifan waits by her side for a bit longer than he necessarily has to, running his gaze over her face and wondering exactly what’s going on in that head of hers.

She huffs when he slowly untangles himself from her, shoving a stuffed panda into her arms so that she’s not wrapped around just air, and slowly, tiptoes out, closing the door behind him.

Standing in front of Zitao’s closed bedroom door, he signs, rubbing a hand up and down his face. Just a little more, and then he’ll clear up and go back to sleep next to her.

But as he walks to the table where all his work’s spread out, he can’t help but feel that there’s something changed between them, but he doesn’t know what.

-

He was right about things changing after that night. Zitao’s clingier than before during the hours they’re together, almost as if to compensate for running out the door each night as soon as she’s done washing the dishes and eating. There are times in which Yifan is nearly carrying Zitao through the halls during their free time, but as soon as she’s out of sight, it’s like her phone turns off, which Yifan would almost believe happens if he doesn’t know that she would never turn her phone off.

It’s during the middle of a lecture in which Yifan snaps awake with a lump in his throat. He wasn’t really sleeping, but like when the professor is just covering what they had to read for homework, paying full attention isn’t the most necessary use of his time.

It’s like he’s been shot with a pint of adrenaline as the nagging thought that something very wrong is happening, sending him straight into flight or fight mode. His Zitao radar is going off, hitting a good 8 or 9, and a second after he realises that fact, his phone starts going off. It’s so loud with the buzzing of incoming texts, one after another from Baekhyun and Chanyeol and even Jongin, a dancer who’s one of Zitao’s friends, that people around him are starting to give him dirty looks.

He opens exactly one text from Baekhyun, reads the words “ZITAO” and “FIGHT” and “HURt” in the same sentence, and feels his blood run cold.

Yifan drops his phone and immediately starts shoveling his things into his bag. If he was in any more of a panic, he would just leave his things here, but the few calm brain cells in his head tell him that if he leaves his things here, he’ll never get them back again, and he really needs his notes and laptop. His phone is still buzzing as he zips his bag and gets up. There’s now also a dirty look from his professor in the mix, but he has literally no fucks to give. Zitao takes first priority, and if she’s in a fight and hurt, then fuck it all.

He doesn’t know how he managed to get across campus to the little showdown in the middle of the glass house cafeteria. One moment he was checking his still incoming messages as he storms out of the class, retaining exactly no information from the words coming in at such a speed he can’t properly read before it’s gone, and then the next he’s pulling the glass door open, throwing his bag at a panicked Chanyeol heading towards him as he pushes through the little crowd of people gathered around what sounds like a fight.

In the centre, it’s Zitao standing in front of Sehun, a bloody lip and anger flashing in her eyes as she stares at her opponent, a guy who looks slightly more beat up than her but a bit more maniac. Baekhyun and Jongin are two of the people trying to stop them, but standing on the sidelines as other people cheer them on. Judging from the way Jongin holds her cheek, she probably tried to intervene and got hit hard, which is why no one else dares to step in.

“Taozi!” The guy moves forwards, aiming to strike, but Zitao is quicker, landing two more hits on his face and knocking him onto the ground before he could hit her. Yifan breaks through the crowd and positions himself in front of the guy, blocking Zitao with his body.

“Who the fuck are you? Why do people keep trying to get into this fight? This isn’t your problem, fuck off!” The guy stares up at Yifan, practically spitting his words out.

“It was the problem the moment you decided to fight my girlfriend.” Yifan glares back. Sure, out of the two of them, Zitao is far more deadly, but he’s been told that he looks “extremely cold,” “perpetually angry,” “likely to start a fight,” and even more bad descriptions along those lines, so he’s hoping that him just glaring would scare the guy off.

“Ge, it’s not your problem, you don’t need to step in.” Zitao tries to step around him, probably to beat up the guy a bit more, but Yifan steps with her, determined to stop this fight for both of their sakes.

“It’s my problem if someone’s trying to fight you.” He snaps back, automatically raising a hand back to keep her from circling around him.

“It’s not even that bitch’s problem, though it kinda is because she started hitting me!” The douchebag has managed to get up, and is still spitting trash. “It’s that whore’s problem!”

The asshole points behind both Yifan and Zitao to probably Sehun, and while Yifan now sees why this fight happened, it doesn’t stop the fact that he needs to stop it. He kinda wants to punch him too, but he’s not here to brawl too.

“Don’t call my girlfriend and her friend that.” Yifan steps forwards, hopefully threateningly, and thankfully the guy steps back, still staring up at Yifan as if trying to destroy him with his eyes alone.

“Fine. But keep an eye on her, you never know when these bitches switch up on you.” Yifan didn’t have to punch him, but honestly, he really deserves it. After that hit, which was honestly a lot softer than what Zitao probably delivered prior, the guy finally gives up, throws them all a collective stink eye, and then turns his back, slinking away. Bastard. Fighting girls and only stopping when a dude steps in, if he was just trying to get outmatched then he would’ve left when Zitao stepped in. Clearly nothing but sexist trash.

“Are you okay?” Yifan turns back to Zitao as soon as the guy has pushed his way out the circle of people dispersing, looking her over. There’s what looks like the beginnings of a bruise on her cheek, but what seems more urgent is the bloody lip she’s proudly sporting.

“Yeah. It’s nothing, but you really didn’t need to step in, ge. Don’t you have class?” Zitao asks, pushing his hands away when he pulls out a tissue and tries to start dabbing at her lip.

“I do, but do you really think I could just stay in class when my phone is blowing up with people texting me that you’re getting hurt in a fight? And of course I needed to step in, you clearly weren’t going to end the fight.” Yifan hands Zitao the tissue for her to do it herself, instead just holding onto her shoulders, needing a reassurance that she’s stable and fine.

“You don’t really need to worry about me, it’s Hunnie that you need to worry about.” With that, Zitao whirls around, looking at Sehun standing off to the side a bit to the side, talking to Jongin while holding onto her nose, blood streaming through her fingers. ‘Hunnie’? Yifan didn’t know that they were friends, and even if he isn’t the type of person who’s so controlling they need to know all their significant other’s other friends, Zitao usually tells him about them so that he understands the funny stories they inevitably will pop up in.

Sehun notices that they’re now staring at her, and with a whirl, she turns on her heels and speed-walks away, blood dripping from her nose with every step.

“Hunnie!” Zitao calls, already stepping away, but held in place by Yifan’s hands still on her shoulders. “Ge, I-”

Yifan looks at the anguished look on her face, and even if he doesn’t fully understand, he understands something. “It’s fine, go after her. We can talk later.”

Zitao nods, and with Yifan’s arms off her shoulders, she breaks into a sprint, chasing after the blonde.

“Take care of your injuries!” Yifan calls after her retreating back, but he’s willing to bet that she didn’t hear a word he said.

Chanyeol drops his bag at his feet, standing next to him as they watch the duo disappear behind a building. “Oh damn.”

Oh damn is certainly right.

-

It’s dinnertime, and Yifan waits by the dinner table, watching the food cool. He and Zitao haven’t talked since she chased after Sehun in the morning, and he honestly has some doubts as to if she would come back at all. But Zitao always comes home for dinner. Right?

When the clock hits 9 and everything is very thoroughly cooled, Yifan reaches for his chopsticks. Zitao isn’t going to come, so might as well start eating, right?

Wrong. There’s the sound of keys in the door right as Yifan is about to put the first bite of chicken into his mouth, and he drops the chicken and the chopsticks as Zitao walks in, slinging off her bag and dropping her keys down like usual.

“You’re home later than usual.” Yifan meets her at the door as she pulls off her shoes and jacket, and she nods, avoiding his gaze.

“I had stuff to do.”

There’s an awkward air that hangs with the tension of the knowledge there is something to discuss, and Yifan wishes desperately that Zitao was still out at the same time he does not.

“I’ll heat up the foot, it got cold.” He excuses himself to the kitchen, popping the dishes into the microwave.

“Sorry, did I make you wait long?” Zitao calls from her spot in their little foyer area, and Yifan shakes his head before realising that he needs to speak for her to know what he’s doing.

“No, it wasn’t that long.” The very fact he has to microwave the dishes to warm them up again reveals his lie, but they both ignore it, Zitao walking all the way to the bathroom instead of heading into the kitchen to wash her hands.

They eat slowly and quietly. Zitao isn’t dressed to go partying tonight, but Yifan bets that she’s not going to spend the majority of the night at home. There’s still the silence of dragging things out longer than they need to be, but Yifan was never the type of person who would pick at his scabs and rip off the bandaid. That’s Zitao’s territory. Instead, he lets the scabs fall off naturally, or when he hits them against something and they get scraped off, and pick slowly at the stickiness of the band aid until he’s unstuck the whole thing.

Unfortunately, this is a conversation that must be had. It can just wait a little longer.

A little longer turns out to be after they’ve slowly finished dinner and washing the dishes, Zitao taking unusual care of the little spots as Yifan sits down on the couch, and waits, entertained by nothing but his thoughts.

There are nothing but thoughts in his head, but they are all empty thoughts. Huh. Maybe his head would be considered empty? Head empty, no thoughts. Or some thoughts. This would count as a thought?

Zitao sits down at the other end of the couch, carefully slow. There’s too much space between them, since usually if they’re sitting on the couch together it’ll be to cuddle while watching a movie together or something, but it’s only uncomfortable because of the atmosphere.

“You’ve been acting different these past few days.” Yifan usually doesn’t rip the bandaid off, but of course, when it comes to Zitao, it’s all different. A bunch of times when they were little, he was forced to rip the bandaids off for her, because she didn’t want to do it and he didn’t have qualms about doing it for someone else.

“I’m really sorry, ge, but I want to break up.” Oh. Yifan might’ve lifted the edge up to pull, but he didn’t expect Zitao to just up and rip it off so suddenly.

“Oh.”

Zitao shuffles slightly, fluttering as if her mind’s changing between getting up, moving away, moving towards, or just doing nothing. In the end, it seems like do nothing wins out, and she settles back into her place,

“Why?” Yifan doesn’t know why he only has the ability to speak in one word sentences, but it expresses his mood and does the work necessary all at the same time. Besides, dating was Zitao’s idea. It would’ve blindsided him less if Zitao eased the conversation that way, but it seems like that’s just not her style.

“It’s not that I don’t love you, I do, but meeting Hunnie, I don’t think I ever loved you in the right way.” Zitao confesses, eyes closed as she speaks in Yifan’s general direction. “Did we really ever love each other romantically or did it just feel right?”

“Ah.” Beautiful vocabulary, Yifan, way to go.

“You don’t have to agree, and you don’t have to answer now, but I don’t think I can stay your girlfriend.” Zitao stands up, her piece said and done. Yifan’s eye catches on the hoodie she’s wearing, black with a minimalistic design, only about one size too large, and there’s a splotch of pink paint on the right shoulder. It’s his hoodie, but like most things in his closet, it finds itself on Zitao’s body as well.

“I’m going to go now. See you tomorrow.”

“Bring a jacket, it’ll get cold.” Yifan automatically speaks, thinking about how the temperatures are dropping lower than usual tonight, but in the tension between them, it’s a bit of an awkward thing to say. They both freeze, and Zitao turns back to slowly look at him, nodding.

“Thanks ge.”

Yifan follows her to the door, watching as she pulls on an oversized jacket, another one of Yifan’s clothes, and her boots, forming a rough oversized look. Like most things, she makes it work.

She opens the door, hesitates there for a second. Then she turns back, and before Yifan knows it, he’s automatically opened his arms to catch Zitao in a hug, breathing in the cherry blossom shampoo she uses. And then, she’s gone.

Yifan lies in bed, mind racing.

It’s long past the time that he should be fast asleep, but what Zitao said echoes in his head nonstop.

Loving in the right way.

He chuckles lowly, before turning over, glad Zitao isn’t around to listen to him being a maniac. Actually he’s really glad she just up and left, he needs time to think without any interruptions, and Zitao leaving has given him just that. But there’s the question of where she’ll be, especially since she didn’t look dressed up to go partying.

That’s a topic for a different time. The current one he should be focusing on is the thought of breaking up.

Is Yifan opposed to breaking up? Does he want to stay together with her or does he want to go? It would be too much a lie to say his feelings on their relationship is neutral, but what else would it be?

What was the thing keeping them in a relationship? Yifan loves her, but not really romantically, right? He loves the constant that she is in his life, and he loves her qualities and as a person, but he doesn’t really love love her, does he? Sure, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to live without her, but realistically he’ll probably be able to go on, abit very hurt. And thinking about seeing her in love with Sehun, kissing in public, holding hands on dates, doesn’t really break his heart.

The natural way. It felt right. Did they really need to be in a romantic relationship in the first place?

Most of the answers are probably no. Yifan turns again, and hears his mom’s voice float through his head, offering her advice. “Don't be afraid to let go.”

Yifan thinks he finally figured out, not that there was much to figure out in the first place. There’s just one thing to do before they break apart for good, but that’s for the morning, so he turns one last time, and goes to sleep.

-

Yifan catches the sight of familiar bleached blond making its way through a crowd and he starts to move.

“Sehun!” He calls, mind blank besides the thought, starting off as a slight suggestion but quickly becoming frantic, of catching up to the girl. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do or say, but he needs to talk with her.

“Oh Sehun!” A group of girls turn around and stare at him jogging towards Sehun, one of the girls raising a hand to her mouth with the expression of false shock of someone waiting for drama to go down, and Yifan suddenly remembers the second to last time some guy called Sehun out in the middle of campus, the one before the incident that Zitao involved herself in. He was spitting mad, and by the time he caught up to Sehun, he didn't even say anything, but just aimed a punch towards her jaw, which she thankfully ducked under. Chanyeol was there to witness the situation going down and at this point he stepped in, rushing forwards with Seokjin to grab ahold of the slighted boyfriend as he swung wildly at Sehun, calling out obscenities as he was held back. Sehun didn’t say a word throughout the whole encounter, but gave the man a long look, before she spun on her heels, walking away. No one attempted to stop her.

Yifan had heard the tale over lunch with Zitao from Chanyeol, speaking and gesturing with his usual enthusiasm. But actually, the whole lunchroom heard the tale at lunch that day, murmurs getting quieter as everyone strained their ears to hear from a firsthand source.

In the end, nothing really came out of the whole thing. The girlfriend started dating both girls and guys, the boyfriend transferred schools, and Sehun got a reputation comparable to one of a killer.

Sehun turns around but keeps slightly backing away, probably also getting flashbacks to that and the previous incident, like Yifan.

“What?” She asks, wariness etched into her face.

The way she backs up, hands hanging purposefully by her sides, dragging the foot in front back slightly despite being in heels, the way she slightly curves into herself, it all looks so familiar. Then Yifan realises exactly where he saw this before. Zitao. Zitao does this if she’s gearing up for what she thinks could be a fight.

Of course Zitao would’ve taught Sehun to fight. She’s always been big on making sure people know how to protect themselves, helping Yifan through the motions even if his slow and lanky limbs can barely move right, meeting up with her other friends and her fashion design club to make sure everyone else did too. But when would she have taught Sehun to fight? Certainly not at the dark clubs and dance floors with no other space nor air to breathe. Yifan knows her schedule like the back of his hand, better than his own, which means she must’ve done it during lunchtimes, giving up previous minutes where she should be eating to help someone else.

Speaking of lunch, it’s lunchtime. He would usually be eating with Zitao, but the class she’s currently in right now meets every three days, and covers the entirety of 12’oclock, which happens to be when she usually has lunch. Zitao doesn’t get up anywhere near early enough to pack herself food to eat which is why Yifan started doing it, but she wasn’t sleeping in her bed when Yifan woke up, so he has no clue if she took the lunch he packed for her.

Sehun and Zitao are about the same age, and if her appetite is anything like Zitao’s, she’s probably hungry too.

“Have you had lunch yet?” Yifan asks, finding a path has cleared up, leaving a wide space between him and Sehun.

“Look, you can- wait what?” Sehun pauses in place, allowing Yifan to get closer.

“Have you had lunch yet? It’s lunchtime.” Yifan questions, and Sehun slowly shakes her head no, limbs unstiffening to stand up straighter, no longer completely on guard. “Do you want to have lunch with me? There’s a place I wanted to visit.”

Sehun still looks like she wants to reject the whole premise, and Yifan wouldn’t have any way to make her come, but she slowly nods. “Sure. You’re paying.”

“Of course, I asked you to come with me.” The group of girls turn away, disappointment apparent on some of their faces at the fact that nothing happened. Sehun stares after them, a stormy look on her face.

For the first time, Yifan really wonders about what Sehun feels. She used to be scared of talking in class, but now her every move is watched by those who hunger for drama, always considering her a great source. It also doesn’t seem like she has many friends or even friends at all, and every time Yifan spotted her around campus she was always moving alone, seeming like a legend, heads above everyone else.

He steps between the girls and directly into Sehun’s line of vision, causing her to look up at him with something that isn’t much happier than her previous annoyed look.

“Let’s go, it’s not far.”

Like Yifan expected, Sehun doesn’t eat as much as Zitao, but she still has an enviable spread. One huge bowl of noodles that Yifan thinks is larger than his own, and a bun or two saved for later. Truly, the most tragic part of college is the fact that people don’t have enough food, nor money to buy the food if they want to be able to do other things.

The first few minutes they just sit in silence, waiting for their food. And then as soon as it arrives, Sehun starts eating, slow and steadily, savouring every bite like she wanted it to last forever. Or maybe she was trying to stall the inevitable talk that was going to come.  
For his part, Yifan eats slower than usual too, also trying to stall. Now that he’s faced with the prospect of actually talking to Sehun instead of having the desperate thought that he needs to, he has no clue what he wants to say.

What can he say in this circumstance?

Zitao just more or less broke up with him, and he feels nothing at that, besides a feeling that he’s not going to try and work out in from of Sehun. And here he is, sitting in from of Sehun, knowing that he needs to say something to her, but not quite sure what.

Does this mean he never loved Zitao in the first place? But that can’t be right, he loves her more than anyone else in the world. He would gladly step in front of a bullet, undergo torture, die, if it kept her safe. So what is he doing?

“Okay. Stop dragging out the torture. What do you want to say to me?” Sehun sets down her bowl, completely empty of food. In Yifan’s momentary confusion, she had managed to slightly speed up her eating rate and finish before Yifan.

“You know it’s about Zitao.”

Sehun nods, blank expression on her face clearly still on guard. She doesn’t look away from his eyes.

“Zitao broke up with me yesterday because she likes you.”

Sehun nods again, nothing to say to this comment. There’s no good reply for her to use, since it’ll probably seem insensitive no matter what she says.

“I think it’s better this way.” Yifan finally admits, both to Sehun and himself. Sure, he loves Zitao and the time in which they were dating, but like Zitao said, they didn’t really romantically like each other. It’s better for her to be able to be with someone she actually likes.

Sehun blinks. Once, a break of her expression, somehow softening. Twice, confusion rising up in her eyes. Thrice, eyes darting around the room as she struggles to come up with words. Her lips forms “o”s one or twice, trying to push out words that don’t make it out. In the end, all she says is a simple, “Oh.”

Yifan nods. This conversation is monotone, calm, not how he expected it to go. But how did he really expect this to go?

“I don’t know you. All I know are rumours floating around campus about you, but I know Zitao, and if she likes you, then that means you can’t be bad.” Yifan speaks, mouth working with words he didn’t know he was going to use. Wait, is he giving her the best friend talk by accident? “And we both know that Zitao is clearly a lot stronger than I am, and better at fighting and all that, but if you hurt her, you will pay.”

Sehun nods, suddenly serious again. “I know I will.”

The look in her eyes implies that she knows and very much will accept that she would deserve it, and Yifan thinks he understands why Zitao would like her so much. Well, now that they’re probably going to be spending a lot of time together, might as well get to know her.

Yifan pulls out his phone and she stares with unrestrained suspicion and judgement. Yifan understands, but he opens his contacts list and slides his phone across the table to Sehun.  


“Add yourself.”

“Why.”

“It’s good to be able to get in touch with me if you can’t get in touch with Zitao, or if I can’t get in touch with Zitao, then I can text you.” Yifan doesn’t blame her suspicion, this whole situation in and of itself is slightly shady. If he was Sehun, and the ex-boyfriend of the girl who she likes just came up to her, asked her to lunch in a pretty good noodles place that was also in a small road that is also shady as fuck, and then asked for her contact information, he would’ve been suspicious too. Wait, now that he’s thought of it like this, this whole thing seems pretty bad. Oh no.

“Also, if you ever need help of any kind, just ask me and I’ll do my best to help.” He adds on, but that doesn’t really seem to help.

“Why?” Sehun asks again, judgemental look still very firm on her face.

Good question. Apparently Sehun also reads on his face that he doesn’t quite know why he offered, because she snorts, and picks up the phone to start typing.

“If you say some cliche shit like ‘I take care of my own’ like I’m marrying into a mafia family, then don’t bother.” There’s a slight curl upwards in her sneer, and Yifan relaxes. They’re perfect for each other.

“Then I won’t.” Sehun slightly grins at that, a long, exaggerated, and thin grin as she finishes the contact and calls herself, pulling out her own phone to end the call and put Yifan into his own contact.

“Did Zitao go home this morning?” Yifan asks, finally turning his attention to the most prevalent question in his mind.

“Why are you asking me? You think she was with me all night?” Sehun’s words are full of thorns, and her tone discourages conversation for more than a few seconds. She’s going to have to try harder than that to get Yifan to give up. He’s spent his whole life around Zitao, who has one of the world’s best resting bitch faces, but is a sweetheart with a bad habit of sounding mean.

“Where else would she be? Crashing in Jongin’s overcrowded dorm?” Zitao hasn’t really talked about who she could sleep with, but since the majority of all her friends live on campus, it’ll only be in a female dorm. Plus, most of her friends would be partying anyways, so it’ll have to be someone who would actually be in bed instead of in a club at like 10. It’s public knowledge that Sehun doesn’t have a roommate because the last one tried to publicly humiliate her and the administration gave her a single to protect her, and while Yifan knows that Jongin for sure would offer her bed to Zitao, her dorm usually has like 5 people in a space supposed to contain 3.

Sehun glares a bit longer, but gives up early, knowing that Yifan’s right. “No, she said she didn’t want to go back and face you before you responded.”

“Alright. When’s your next class?”

“At 1:30, why?”

“Alright, Taozi usually eats lunch around now, so do you want to bring her some food? This is her favourite noodles place, and she hasn’t had noodles in awhile.” Yifan’s already scanning the menu, trying to figure out what Zitao would like best. Plus, he’s willing to bet she didn’t have breakfast either, because living in a dorm doesn’t really promote breakfast beyond a bagel and coffee.

“Then why don’t you bring her some food?” Sehun snarks.

“I’m giving you an opportunity to see her smile, don’t throw it away.” Hmm, maybe a large bowl of classic Beef Lanzhou Lamian and some extra meat buns. The lady who runs this shop is brilliant with her meat buns, enough so that Zitao could probably inhale 3 before she comes up for air.

Sure enough, Sehun quieted down after that point, meaning that she’s probably as head over heels for Zitao as she deserves to have someone head over heels for her.

“Auntie, can we also order some food to take out for a friend?” Yifan calls in mandarin, leaving Sehun in slight confusion.

“For your girlfriend?” Auntie calls back, a knowing smile on her face due to the number of times Yifan and Zitao came here together. If you actually counted these trips as dates, then basically all their dates were spent at this little store, enjoying quality noodles and buns.

“We broke up. She’s dating her now.” Yifan nods at Sehun, and she narrows her eyes, seeming to understand that she’s being mentioned in the conversation but not knowing in what context.

“Ah. So what do you want for her?” Auntie seems to understand the situation, and reaches for a large bowl even before Yifan has said the order.

“A large bowl of beef Lamian and some meat buns.” Auntie nods, starting to prepare the order.

“What were you saying to her?” Sehun asks, looking still very suspicious of what’s going on.

“The order.” Yifan replies innocently. By the time she figures that isn’t the whole truth, it’ll be when she comes in with Zitao, and she’s not going to complain because Auntie will just stuff them with food.

They return their dirty bowls and used chopsticks to the counter, and Yifan accepts the large takeout bag, passing over the proper amount, plus a bit more for a tip.

“You’re such a good child, I hope you find someone who will truly appreciate you.” Auntie tsks, pulling out two more buns from the steamer.

“Thank you auntie, but you really don’t need to.” Yifan protests weakly, knowing from past experience that it’s not really worth it.

She gives him an unimpressed and exhausted look as she presses the red bean paste steamed bun into his hands, and then turns to Sehun with a much more polite look.

“Congratulations. Please enjoy.” Sehun is too stunned to pull away from auntie and her heavily accented korean, and her hands take the sweet steamed bun before she could complain. Before Sehun can say anything else though, Auntie disappears into the back kitchen, leaving them standing awkwardly in the restaurant.

“What? What did she just give me? Yifan, what did you tell her?” Sehun whirls on Yifan, but he starts walking, unable to keep the grin from rising up on his face.

“Take a bite to find out.” He walks faster, knowing that Sehun’ll have to follow.

“Yifan!”

-

Yifan is warm. Wait, that’s not right.

His eyes fly open and he finds the pleasant surprise that is the fact that his blankets have not been stolen in the middle of the night, but are in fact, still around him. There also isn’t a tangle of limbs and hair lying next to him.

Ah, Zitao didn’t sleep here last night, that explains everything. It’s still kinda weird waking up alone no matter how many times it happens, but Yifan won’t complain about being able to have his blankets wrapped around him when he opens his eyes.

Then he checks the clock and wishes that he didn’t open his eyes in the first place, because he really could’ve used those 5 minutes before his alarm went off. Well, now that he’s here, might as well take advantage of the early start.

The coffee had barely finished brewing before a girl plunks her way to the dining room, collapsing into a chair and then proceeding to immediately bury her head into her arms. Yifan stirs the porridge one more time and then sets the spoon down, grabbing a mug out of the cupboard.

He pours the cup two thirds full of coffee before filling the rest with milk and an ungodly amount of sugar, stirring so it’s all mixed and takes a sip. It’s the perfect amount of too sweet and Yifan sets it down in front of the blonde, to no reaction.

The pot demands his attention so Yifan walks back into the kitchen, and by the time he’s fried a few eggs and finished the porridge, Sehun seems slightly more alive at the dinner table, actually drinking her coffee.

“Morning?”

Sehun nods as she accepts the food, indicating that it is indeed a good morning. Yifan doesn’t know why she’ll wake up if she’s not truly awake in the mornings. She should just be like Zitao and sleep til like noon on the weekends if she can instead of trying to compete with Yifan to see who can wake up first.

Maybe it’s because she’s still uncomfortable in the apartment that Yifan and Zitao share. When they were able to talk again, Zitao tried for a solid 5 seconds to move out, but Yifan honestly worries about what would happen if she does. They might not be dating anymore, but it doesn’t mean they aren’t roommates and best friends. So instead, Yifan sees Sehun around far more often, probably partly drawn in by the good food he offers, and partly drawn in by Zitao.

She’s still a bit shy, but that’s just because they don’t really know each other. Yifan’s willing to bet that if he gives her just a bit more time, she’ll end up being just as bad as Zitao.

Sehun slowly picks up an egg with her chopsticks, and eats it even slower. Maybe her mouth muscles didn’t properly wake up yet.

But instead of sitting here in silence over breakfast while wondering how awake Sehun is, Yifan and the quiet of the morning is interrupted by the sound of his phone. He glances at the caller id, intending to let the spam caller just ring through, but he reads the contact and is suddenly too awake.

“I have to take this, it’s Taozi’s parents.” He tells Sehun, which in turn wakes her the fuck up as well.

He stands, walks a good distance away, and before he can seem too suspicious, picks up the call.

It’s been awhile since he’s spoken to Zitao’s parents, and the last time certainly was before the whole break-up went down, which may make it a bit awkward. But he knows them like he knows his mom, and it’s fine.

“Auntie Huang, Uncle Huang, how are you?” Yifan asks, not quite sure who he’s speaking to today,

“We’re doing fine, how are you doing?” The voice that comes through is Zitao’s mom. “Did you eat yet? Are you guys eating well? Should I send over some food?”

“We’re doing just fine, Auntie Huang. I just made breakfast but Taozi won’t be awake for a little bit, so she’ll eat later. But we get a good three meals so you don’t need to worry.”

“That’s good to hear, I’m guessing you’re the one keeping Taozi from starving?” Yifan chuckles, because that’s not entirely wrong, but he doesn’t want to just expose Zitao to her parents like this.

“She makes her own food too.” Yifan replies, and Zitao’s mom just tsks.

“Thank you for keeping my daughter alive, Fanfan.”

“You’re really giving me too much credit, Auntie Huang.” Yifan’s not lying. Zitao’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself, Yifan just likes to help with the process to make sure she doesn’t die.

“Yeah yeah. Your uncle wants to talk to you now, so I’ll pass it over to him.” There’s a bit of clacking and shuffling, and then Zitao’s dad’s voice comes through, decently clear.

“Hello?”

“Uncle Huang? How are you doing?” Yifan greets, starting to pace slightly. He’s never been able to stand in place while taking a call, but this is also the first time he’s taken a call with someone staring directly at him.

“I’m just the same old me. What really matters are you two. Is school going well? How are your grades and art? How’s your relationship? Taozi can be a bit too much of a hothead at times, but you’ve managed to bear through with her.” Oh look at that, he doesn’t even have to be the one to bring up the topic.

“School’s going well for both of us and so is everything else, but, uh, we broke up.” It goes so silent on the other side of the line that Yifan honestly wonders for a second if he had ended the call.

Sehun tilts her head at him and he mimes scooping with a spoon, gesturing to her porridge. He didn’t make it for it to go cold while she watches him talk. Sehun rolls her eyes and picks up the bowl, eating as slowly as she can, despite the fact that she still can’t understand a thing he says.

“Hello?” Yifan asks the phone. The phone is slow to reply.

“Oh I’m so sorry FanFan, I thought my daughter could be bad at times, but I didn’t know she would go to such extents so bad that you would-”

“She broke up with me.” Yifan cuts him off before this conversation could go too far in a direction it should not go. Why do parents try and berate their own kids first? Yifan’s willing to bet that if Zitao called his mom and told her that they broke up, she would jump to the conclusion that it was Yifan’s fault Zitao broke up with him. But then again, she’s more understanding of things like this, so maybe not.

“Why? I find it very hard to believe she could’ve found someone better.”

Yifan looks at Sehun, and Sehun looks back at him.

“It’s not like that. Taozi just found someone that she likes, genuinely romantically likes. We’re better off as friends anyways.” Yifan replies.

“Who even is this new person Taozi likes? Are they a good person? You’ll make sure she’s not going off on a bad path, right FanFan?” Zitao’s father demands, tone changing in an instance.

“Don’t worry, Uncle Huang. Her new partner is a good person, and I’m watching after them both.” Yifan quickly soothes, but he probably wasn’t heard at all, as he hears shouting in the background from Zitao’s dad to her mom.

Turns out that most of the rumours were about as fake as they could be, which Yifan figured would be the case. It all started when Sehun was convinced to go out once by one of her other friends. She just started identifying as a lesbian, and when the pretty girl she found at the bar returned her awkward advances, it was supposed to be a nice thing. Turns out she had a boyfriend, and that boyfriend was pissing mad as soon as he figured it out.

The girl dumped the guy, the guy was mad so he spread a bunch of rumours about the two, and seeing Sehun’s perfect resting bitch face and her immaculate ability to do a great smoky eye, the rumours against her grew and grew until no one really knew where it started.

One of Sehun’s former friends was in a bad relationship, and since she figured that her reputation was basically shit anyways, might as well rule hell instead of serve heaven. They staged an event, and they successfully pulled it off, creating a role that Sehun was great at playing with her icy demeanour.

Besides the first time, and that was by accident anyways, Sehun hasn’t really done anything bad. In fact, her intentions were all to do good, so maybe it actually makes her far better? There’s a moral question somewhere in there but Yifan dropped out of philosophy for a reason, so it’s not going to be his question. Either way, Sehun more or less already lives in their apartment anyways, so if Yifan was to make a decision about her, it should’ve been much earlier.

“Who is it?” Zitao’s dad finishes his shouted conversation, turning his attention back to Yifan.

“Uh, I think it should be Taozi to tell you. She’ll probably call soon.”

Zitao’s dad snorts. “Sure. Tell her to remember to call.”

“Yeah.”

“Also, your mom and grandparents are doing fine, she says she’ll call maybe in a week or two. Do either of you need some money?”

“No, we’re doing fine, I’m starting to get commissions and money from that.” It sounds like Zitao’s dad is trying to wrap up the conversation, which is weird considering that he would usually initiate talks that are an hour long or just about.

“That’s good. Your Auntie and I have to visit an old friend so I’m sorry we don’t get to talk for as long as we usually do, but you can tell your mom things and she’ll tell us.” Zitao’s dad suggests, switching the topic. Yifan’s willing to bet that if he checks his bank account later, there’ll be more money in there.

“Alright. Bye Uncle Huang.”

“Bye FanFan. Tell my daughter to call.” Before Yifan can reply that he would, the call ended and he lets out a small sigh, Sehun still staring directly at him.

“I told Zitao’s dad that she’ll tell him. I didn’t say anything about you.” Yifan tells her, walking back to his seat and sinking into it.

Sehun nods once, finally drinking her coffee, long sips that take so long Yifan wonders if she’s falling asleep with her eyes open.

“Thank you.”

Yifan smiles at Sehun, who looks like she’s finally starting to relax. The day is bright, and it only gets brighter when Sehun hesitantly returns a smile of her own.

-

“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” Yifan holds tightly to Zitao’s hand as she drags him through a crowd of people, weaving and moving around bodies clustered too close for polite company. Her habit of dragging people through dance floors is getting old and annoying.

“You just got another commission and Sehun just finished her exams! Why would we not celebrate?” Zitao beams back at her girlfriend, also being dragged around by Zitao in the labyrinth of people, and Sehun sighs.

“We can’t do this every time I get a commission.” Yifan complains, having nearly walked into a pit of questionably coloured liquid that he had to basically trip over a girl in black to avoid.

“Why not? And we’re not just celebrating your commission, we’re also celebrating that Sehun finished her finals!” Zitao pushes through the last few people to finally get to the bar, and there just so happened to be three open seats. She steals the leftmost seat, next to a girl rambling on with her own group of friends, Sehun takes the seat next to her, and Yifan takes the remaining seat.

Even if he hates to admit it, Zitao’s won this argument by pulling in Sehun’s finals, and there’s not much else he can say about it. So he just sighs and watches as Zitao orders them some drinks, resigning himself to watching over the duo while carefully keeping his blood alcohol to a level where it’s still legal to drive. One small glass should be enough.

Since Zitao is adamant on celebrating every time he gets a commission, and Sehun does deserve praise for getting through those hell exams, maybe he’ll treat them both tomorrow. Somewhere nice, like that new seafood restaurant that just opened up. The reviews have been stellar, and eating one meal there won’t send him into catastrophical financial ruin.

“Cheers!” Zitao raises her glass and they clink their own glass cups against it. Yifan has his standard drink, Zitao has hers, and Sehun drinks a deep blue one with white pieces floating around like little stars floating around in the galaxy.

“Sehun, can I taste your drink?” Yifan asks, raising his own glass to indicate a switch. Sehun nods and passes it over, Zitao draping herself over her girlfriend’s shoulder.

The white little “stars” turn out to be coconut floating around in something that tastes like pure syrup, the kick of alcohol coming a bit after he swallows, along with the taste of, blueberry?

“What’s this called?” Sehun raises Yifan’s glass, taking another slight sip before passing it to Zitao, who steals about half of the remaining contents.

“Blood of the Fallen.” It was cool the first time Yifan heard it, and now it’s kinda embarrassing. But it tastes great, and really, that’s what matters.

Sehun snorts, rolling her eyes as she takes Zitao’s glass and steals a sip from that as well.  
“What’s yours called then?” Yifan takes back his glass of Blood, handing back the night skies to Sehun.

“...Sipped Galaxy.”

Yifan huffs. “Really? You’re acting like Blood of the Fallen is so bad when you’re drinking Sipped Galaxy?”

Sehun rolls her eyes, slightly baring her teeth as she sips. “Sipped Galaxy sounds classy. Yours doesn’t.”

“Both names sound stupid.” Zitao interrupts, jumping straight into the middle of the talk, Sehun and Yifan both turning to give her a disgusted look, despite knowing she is very right.

“Now, you know what’s a good name?” She holds up her glass, raising it towards the two of them. “Cherry Fire.”

“Taozi, that’s so much worse-”

“I can’t even begin to express exactly how bad of a name that is-”

Zitao cackles as opposition immediately pours in, and Yifan mentally sighs. Yifan knows a lot about Zitao. He knows how she got the scar on her foot, and he knows that she tried to go fishing with noodles tied together as string when she was 5. But he didn’t know what the name of the bright red cocktail she always gets is, and now that he does, he severely wishes to forget.

“I’m going to the bathroom and I will forget that you said that.” Sehun slides off her seat, the look of disgust starting to fade into something more along the lines of resignation and, well, disgust.

Zitao makes a heart shape with her hands, sending it towards Sehun. Sehun shakes her head and rolls her eyes, and turns away.

“So, Fanfan-ge, how have you been?” With her girlfriend gone, Zitao turns her attention onto Yifan, scooting over so her body takes up both seats and saving Sehun’s chair.

“Taozi, we’ve literally spent the whole day together.”

“I know,” Zitao rolls her eyes, a smile slipping onto her face, “but like how have you _been_? We haven’t really talked in a long time.”

“Well, it sure hasn’t been good now that I have to feed both of you, with bottomless pits for stomachs,” Yifan scoffs, ignoring Zitao’s fake wounded expression. “But I’m glad you’re happy.”

Zitao focuses on his face, and Yifan looks into hers, marking down little changes that he hasn’t had time to notice before. Her perpetual eyebags don’t seem as bad as they usually are, and her cheeks are a bit fuller than before. Yifan didn’t draw her liner for her today, which is why it seems softer somehow, the cat eye not as pointed as he would’ve done it, but still with a darker shadow that basically covers up that softness. She’s doing well.

“Ge, you know that I still love you, right?” The music blasting right now is some upbeat track about a dude who just makes himself out to sound like a jerk, maybe early 2000s pop. Why is Zitao trying to have a meaningful conversation now?

“For the food.” Yifan mumbles, but he still nods, letting Zitao know he also feels genuinely about this moment. Well, guess who might be soon crying in the club.

“Hey babe, hope I’m not interrupting anything.” The rudest voice Yifan has ever heard, and he listens to Sehun and Zitao talk on a regular basis, butts into the conversation. It’s a fake deep voice, like the guy possessing those vocal chords just choked himself for a few seconds before walking up to them just for those genuine™ raspy sounds. Maybe it’s unfair of him to think so, but Yifan thinks he hates this voice. He also wants to punch the owner of it, because the voice grates on his nerves and his happy mood at the same time.

Proving they do indeed share one brain cell, though Yifan thinks he possesses it more of the time, they both turn to the guy at the same time, with one thought. Well, more than one because Yifan is mentally running through a check-list of how much he hates this guy’s voice, but it’s one thought, echoing, reverberating.

Yes, you fucking ruinined the moment. What the fuck are you doing?

If Yifan was told to paint a fuckboi, the guy standing in front of them would be what comes out onto his canvas. And that canvas must be burned immediately so no one knows that Yifan ever painted such a thing.

But the guy isn’t looking at Yifan. In fact, Yifan could’ve been part of the bartop for all he cared. He’s staring straight at Zitao with a look on his face that makes Yifan want to emulate his grandma and destroy him, immediately.

“You look hot, cutie. I’m gonna buy you a drink.”

“Excuse me?” Yifan is thankful Sehun’s not here to see this. If she was here, then he wouldn’t be able to get first dibs at tossing him out of the room.

“Oh, my bad bro. I didn’t know both chicks were yours, I thought it was just the blonde.” The guy turns his attention to Yifan, raising his hands up in a mocking surrender pose, starting to slowly back away. Yifan has never considered murder before, but there’s a first time for all things.

“Excuse me!?” It’s now Zitao’s turn to say those words, and Yifan wonders if he still has first dibs. No, it looks like Zitao wants to do the honours, and if Yifan was literally anyone else, he would be able to let her.

“Don’t talk about my best friend and her girlfriend like they don’t exist. Apologise.” Yifan growls, and the guy backs up slightly further, his whole body expressing that he finds literally nothing wrong with it.

“Fine. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He winks at Zitao, and it takes all of Yifan’s very quickly draining self-restraint to not get up and choke him with his own veins.

“ _Excuse me_.” Sehun manages to sound the most intimidating as she stands there, arms crossed and a death glare on her face.

“Oh shit. The ice queen herself is the blonde, what kind of shit are you pulling man?” The fuckboi directs his question to Yifan, but Zitao slams her empty glass onto the counter, hand reaching for the clasp of one of her bracelets.

“Apologise to my girlfriend.” The responsible brain cell says to hold her back, but all the others want to see what would happen when Zitao pulverises his face into a mess that might be more tolerable to look at.

“Your girlfriend? Bro, you shouldn’t trust a word out this chick’s mouth.” Okay, judging by the way Zitao looks, responsible Yifan has to step in, or they might just both get expelled. Zitao for attempted murder, and Yifan for standing by and laughing.

“Alright, if you can’t even simply apologise, leave. Get out, and don’t you dare say another bad word against my two friends or you’ll regret it.” Yifan stands, stepping in front of Sehun, and by extension, Zitao.

“What? I’m just speaking here, what did I do wrong?” The guy stops backing up, standing his ground and attempting to draw himself up. Yifan’s far taller anyways, and even if he knows only one punch that Zitao still hasn’t fully taught him, his anger will drive his momentum.

“Apologise and get the fuck out, or else.”

“Fine.” He faces Sehun as best as he can with Yifan still very determinedly blocking his path, and huffs. “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry to your pretty girlfriend as well.”

And before anything could happen, because Yifan’s pretty sure Zitao just finished removing her rings in the case of actually needing to punch someone, the guy turns and sulks away, leaving a lot of tension and not much ways to relieve it.

Yifan watches him walk until he disappears into the crowd before he turns back around to the two girls, both now seated and also watching the guy’s retreating back. “Are you two alright?”

“Yeah.” Sehun replies, leaning against Zitao, who’s now slowly re-equipping her jewelry, a wary eye out no doubt in case the guy comes back for more. “Thanks oppa.”

“I’m sorry for bringing you both out here. It’s been a mess.” Zitao sighs, shaking her head.

“It wasn’t your fault that asshole showed up.” Sehun soothes, picking up her glass once again as Yifan sits back down.

“If it makes you feel better, I was planning on taking you two out for some good food tomorrow anyways. How about we just do that instead of celebrating here?” Yifan offers, hand already reaching for his wallet.

“Sure. I’m over this already.” Sehun agrees, jumping immediately on Yifan’s suggestion.

Zitao gives a small smile as Sehun drains the rest of her glass, swallowing it in a few gulps, coconut pieces and all, and Yifan follows suit, regretting it only once the alcohol has burned down his throat. Blood of the Fallen was not made to be chugged, and Yifan very clearly knows that now.

“When we get back, let’s watch a movie.” Zitao slides off her seat first, looking a lot happier due to the face Yifan made trying to properly swallow.

Sehun slips her hand into Zitao’s as Yifan passes his card over, the two whispering between themselves as they move towards the exit. Yifan really loves how neither of them even bother to attempt to pay, even if he is older and has accepted his task as the designated treater.

Someone knocks into Sehun slightly and makes a face when they realise who they bumped into, and Yifan has half a mind to force them to apologise. Judging by the way Zitao immediately pastes a glare onto her face, she agrees.

Wait. This is something he would do for Zitao. Shit, did he accidentally adopt Sehun?

Then Sehun says something and Zitao smiles, knocking playfully into Sehun’s shoulder. Sehun scowls, but the fake expression quickly gets replaced by a smile as well. Yifan now knows that Zitao never truly did love him in that way. But he’s happy they both found someone they do.


End file.
